If they actually watched to the end of my original video (and they didn't), they definitely would have seen that I'm a person who sorely needs a break. I can't share why because it's not completely my story to tell. All I know is, just when I think I've hit bottom and I'm, finally, starting to see a way out, a sinkhole opens up. I've been hit financially, physically, emotionally, maternally, externally, internally, mentally over for a very long while but, this year, my tolerance for pain was tried and stretched.

This year, even the warden of Hell shook his head in pity and asked me what I was doing time for. This year, I've cried more tears than the cumulative number of tears I've shed in the years before. This year, I've written and performed speeches about failure, blogged about failure, talked to my students about failure-- all while wading neck deep in the stuff; I felt like a failure as a person, as a woman, as a mother. This year, I thought about something I hadn't thought about since I was sixteen.

This year, being a teacher went from being the bane of my existence to being a large reason for my continued existence.

Having something to get up for everyday just so that I could continue to provide for my children was quite the unexpected lifesaver. But needing one propelled me to seek out a therapist for myself because the things happening in my life and the life of my son were just too much to handle alone and friends had no idea how to help-- it's just that big.

Thankfully, I know trouble doesn't last always and death can be a permanent mistake.

I smile, laugh, and joke about the complexities of life. I have to because every step I take forward finds me flying a few feet back. Even the therapist was in awe of how I'm still standing with the number of hits I take/have taken. I have to stand strong because I have children; I can't let them see the cracks in my shell. So I sit in my car, shed tears, and talk to God.